Hitchhikers
by ddavidrev1
Summary: A chance meeting between a runaway teen and a man with a score to settle becomes a lasting partnership. How Magneto and Mystique first met (ignores everything after X-Men: the Last Stand.) Spoiler alert: never play pool with Erik. He cheats.


Erik stepped out of the car and walked up to the pump, removing the nozzle and placing it in the tank. The sun had gone down and the band of the Milky Way was faintly visible in this remote locale. Some song- American country, he supposed, played from the bar next door. A glowing neon sign of a scantily-clad woman showing a great deal of leg flashed in front. The night air still contained the dry heat of the day, despite the fact that the sun had set an hour earlier.

"Hey, sugar," a voice behind him said.

A pale, blonde-haired woman wearing a very short skirt approached him from behind. Aside from a faux fur-lined skirt and top, she was wearing very little.

She leaned on the side of the car, crossing her legs. "I need a ride out of town, but I don't have any money. I was wondering if we could come to some sort of _arrangement."_ She said this in what he supposed was intended to be a sultry voice. The effort was wasted on him, but that was neither here nor there.

"I'm not interested," he said irritably, and he felt the _click_ of the gas nozzle indicating the tank was full.

She smiled sweetly, but it didn't reach her eyes. Eyes, incidentally, which darted every few seconds to the bar next door. For a moment Erik was sure he could see the outline of a bruise on the side of her face in the light from the gas station windows, but then it was gone.

"Oh, are you _sure,"_ she asked, baring one shoulder and unbuttoning her shirt, "I think we can have us a ball somewhere on the way."

She came ever closer, placing a hand on his shoulder which he shrugged off. He looked into her eyes and for a moment he was certain he saw a flash of yellow.

 _Interesting,_ he thought,

He opened the door and sat down. "Get in," he said, poking his head out the window. She obeyed, and he started the car.

They'd barely gotten a few hundred feet before she started taking her top off.

"Keep your clothes on," Erik ordered.

She didn't seem to know what to do.

They drove for a few minutes in silence.

"What's your name?" he asked.

That sultry voice again. "My name's whatever you want it to be, sugar."

"You're real name," he insisted.

She didn't speak for a few moments.

"Raven," she said.

"I see," he replied. "How old are you, Raven?"

"Fifteen," she said.

"Really," he said with mild interest, "You don't look fifteen."

She looked ahead, a look of concentration on her face, and the buxom woman was replaced by a stringy blonde girl in a pink skirt.

"How about now?" she said irritably.

"You can transform," he observed,

"Glad you noticed," she replied sullenly.

"You have a unique gift, Raven," Erik said, "It seems to me you're squandering it way out here."

"I don't need a lecture," she retorted.

"So what brings a girl with your extraordinary abilities to a backwater like this?" he asked her. Along the road endless desert glowed in the moonlight.

"My 'extraordinary abilities,'" she explained mockingly. "They started a few years ago. One moment I was standing in the mirror wishing I looked like this girl at school, because she'd told me my ears were too big, and the next I _did_ look like her. I thought it was a miracle. Next thing I know I'm running down the stairs to tell my parents and they see me and they scream."

"At what?" he asked her.

She sat there silently.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Erik said, "Raven I want you to know that you're safe with me."

"If there's one thing I've learned it's that I'm not safe with a man," she said bitterly, and the bruise he thought he saw reasserted itself around her neck.

"Who did that to you?" he asked her, indicating the bruise.

"A trucker, passing through," she explained, "Decided he liked to play rough. Next thing I know I can't breathe and his hands are around my neck."

"He got away?" Erik asked in surprise.

"Paco, the guy who owns the bar, said that it was my fault for not making him happy enough," she told him.

Very suddenly Erik stopped, backed up, and performed a k-turn.

"Where are we going?" Raven asked him. Ne noticed the tone of fear creep into her voice.

"That man abused you," he explained, "and this 'Paco' let it happen. It seems to me he shouldn't go unpunished."

"Guys like him always go unpunished," she said.

Erik shrugged with a wry grin. "All the more reason these men shouldn't."

He pulled up to the bar and turned the engine off. "Come," he insisted, "you should get your justice."

"The trucker was huge," she objected, "and Paco has a shotgun. You can't do anything."

Erik grinned. "You just watch and see."

They entered the bar. On a stage, a woman undressed down to her underwear danced on a metal pole to the adoration of sweaty men. In the corner, a pool table was nearly empty aside from three men.

"Him," Raven said, pointing him out. Erik looked to his side and saw that she had resumed her older form. The bruises around her neck remained.

Erik walked up to the pool table and sized up his victim. The man was nearly six four, broad-shouldered and barrel-chested with a large drooping belly that hung over his belt. Around his neck was a metal crucifix on a leather cord.

Erik picked up a pool cue. "Care for a game?" he asked them.

"Go ahead," Raven's abuser said.

They reset the table and Erik broke. The balls spread out in all directions.

"Let's make this interesting," Erik suggested, "Forty dollars sound fair?"

The man grunted in agreement.

Erik lined up the shot and pocketed a striped ball. He aimed again and, with a twist of his wrist, gave the cue ball just enough spin to miss the next one.

His opponent lined up. In a single shot he pocketed two other balls. After a miss he finally handed over the cue.

Erik missed. His opponent proceeded to pocket another ball before missing.

This time Erik was able to hit a ball across the table with suck force that it jumped upwards.

His opponent laughed. "You know what pal? Let's double it. Eighty says I kick your ass."

"A hundred says I win on this turn," Erik retorted.

"Deal." the man said.

Erik smirked and lined up his shot. The ball went in. He lined up again. This time with a jerk of his hand the cur ball spun and curved and hit two balls in at once before rebounding off the edge and hitting a third ball. He lined up another shot and hit a fourth ball in.

His opponent stared as he continued. Two more balls in on a single try. Then finally, with his opponent's jaw on the floor he hit the 8-ball in.

He inclined his head. "WEll, we have a deal," he said wryly.

The man came to his senses. "No way," he said, "No way am I letting you hustle me."

"Are you going back on our deal, then?" Erik asked.

The larger man balled up his fists. "You little fucker. You think you can hustle me?" He grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it against the wall.

"Leave him alone!"

They both turned and saw that Raven had stepped forward.

The larger man recognized her. "Stay out of this you little whore," he commanded.

"You should speak to her with more respect than that," Erik said.

The larger man strode towards him. Then he stopped.

Suddenly he found he couldn't breathe. The metal crucifix around his neck was suddenly pulling away behind his neck. The leather cord was cutting off his windpipe. He stared at Erim in shock.

Erik grinned. "I believe we had a deal."

"Erik!" Raven shouted.

One of the man's compatriots saw his predicament and came to his aid. He aimed a punch at Erik with a pair of brass knuckles-

and was shocked when his weapon of choice dragged him forwards, digging into his fingers until he opened his fist and they came flying off.

With a flick of his wrist Erik made them fly at both of his assailants at once, hitting them both square in the head and knocking them both out. Erik collected his money from the table.

He turned to see a shotgun in his face.

The bartender- Paco, apparently- stared at him in mingled fear and hatred.

"I don't know what you are, freak, but you're gonna get the fuck out of my bar."

Erik smirked. "Not befor you apologize to my companion," he said, indicating Raven, "You said something very unkind to her today- and she works for you, apparently."

"Her?" Paco said incredulously, "Girls like her are a dime a dozen. I can replace her in a second."

"That, my good friend, is where you're wrong."

Erik took a step towards Paco.

The shotgun fired.

The patrons stared in awe at the buckshot that hovered in midair. With a twist of his hand the barrel of the shotgun curled upwards and then tied itself in a knot. He then reached out and the pole in the back broke free and impaled itself on a jukebox in the front. With another wave all the lights shattered, showering sparks on everyone below.

Erik strode confidently to the bar. The patrons parted ways for him, Raven following in his wake. He reached behind the bar and grabbed a bottle, then turned to leave.

He turned to Paco. "Perhaps in the future you'll endeavor to be kinder to the women you employ here."

He walked out. Rven followed.

He got back in his car drove off.

He turned to Raven. "You never finished your story," he remarked, "you said your parents screamed. What scared them?"

"This," she said. In an instant the figure sitting in his passenger seat was blue-skinned and covered in scales. Her hair was blood-red and her eyes yellow. Her mouth was lined with pointed teeth.

Erik smiled. "Beautiful. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

For the first time Raven seemed happy. "Where are you going."

"Argentina," Erik explained, "I have a score to settle."

"Take me with you," Raven asked.

Erik raised an eyebrow at this. "Are you sure? The man I'm looking for is a war criminal and a monster."

"I've dealt with my fair share of monsters," Raven retorted, "What's his name?"

"Essex," Erik answered, "Nathaniel Essex."

They drove off along the deserted road into the night.


End file.
